Friday, August 27, 2010

the unbeaten path got my soul so sore. [livid skin]

i thought i was doing so well. i thought i was handling things.

My skin has this way of telling me that I'm not, but that I'm simply internalizing. ANNND the hives are coming on... my skin is all sensitive and it only takes one wave of overwhelming thoughts for it to be unleashed. I was on the brink of tears a couple of times yesterday, but was simply too angry or frustrated to do anything of the sort. So, I called Christopher and laughed til my face hurt instead.Last night, the old familiar places on my skin started welting up... ever so slightly. sigh. When this happens it's like my body lets me know, ok. This is really getting to you. You can't hold this in anymore. I think what makes things extra frustrating, is that this has been happening since I was a very small girl. My dad would be on his way to pick me up, and My mom would be crying her eyes out in the middle of the floor because she wasn't sure if she'd see me again. Let's just say that he wasn't the nicest man in the world, at that point. I mean, he loved me, but it wouldn't be long before visitation rights didn't exist for him and restraining orders were implemented and jail time would come into play for drug dealing and possession of concealed weapons... I fully grasped how dangerous the night was that I was being carried into, but would say to my fearful mom with full confidence in my two-year old manner of doing things, "Don't worry, Mommy. Angels are watching over me." I would come home from these trips... back into her arms... back to my Grandma and Grandad's house... and just break out into hives. Even then, I was trying so very hard to be strong... trying to remain still and be good... singing out songs of hope when I should be shaking and crying and freaking out. (I'd sing Jesus Loves Me to myself to fall asleep) I would internalize all of these things and there was no place for it to go, but my skin. Except that one time, I absolutely trashed our bedroom. I was 2. I remember how angry I was and I couldn't verbalise it. My mom walked in and saw me and for an instant she was angry, and then she fell to pieces because she just knew, as most mothers do. I've never felt so sorry for almost anything in my life. (Yes, I have one of the most ridiculous vivid memories of early childhood.)

I just really need for all of this to be new. I need all of this to be worked out right. I'm scared of all of the changes. I have a million things to do and I simply cannot do all of this by myself... and I'm tired of trying. I'm frustrated, because I need help and I'm not getting the help I need. I'm weary. But, I won't give up. I won't stop. This is the part of the race where everything in you just wants to fall down and cry... but you clench your teeth and pull it out of the depths of you... I know I can be made strong. But sometimes you just would like a breather where things work out in a display of sun-rise gorgeousness.

This morning, I was driving to work and finished practising some, and decided to turn on The Roots - How I Got Over record. It's funny how the trigger is never the same... but this was the detonator which caused the dam to explode and the tears refused to stop coming... It felt good to release some of it.So, I'll leave you with this goodness.Hope everyone has an amazing Friday with record highs of loveliness.

But if everything was sun-rise gorgeousness, when would you have learned the patience that has blossomed as of late? The lesson is always in the wilderness. I am so excited about your move back to the land of milk and honey. All good things come to those who wait.